


What a Mess

by plasticineking



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:18:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6923695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasticineking/pseuds/plasticineking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Good morning," he lets out a little grin and for the first time he notices that she isn't smiling back - deciding to change that he moves forward presses his lips to hers, happy as she kissed him back. He pulled away and she sighed again. </p>
<p>"It's two in the afternoon," she stood up and his eyes followed her, her voice low, "you've been smoking...and she's still in our bed."</p>
            </blockquote>





	What a Mess

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this is one sitting late at night, it has a young Maria deserving better, and a wise Eliza who may have indirectly led her in the wrong direction - with all the right intentions. Mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy.

** What a Mess **

* * *

 

 

Alexander was dosing. A peaceful relaxed sort of feeling, warm in his - sometimes too soft - bed, content. 

 

He heard the sound of the front door opening, the pleasant sound of heels on hardwood flooring, the creaking of the stairs - Eliza was home. 

 

Good.

 

She was always cursing him for not sleeping, now she would find him not in his office, as she'd expect but in their bed. 

 

A soft sigh comes from the doorway and he hears the soft tapping of her shoes again, walking around to his side of the bed. 

 

Gently she calls, "Wake up, Alexander," already facing her, he forces his eyes open, in the sunlight from the window behind her she looks almost holy, her dusky grey dress her soft pink cheeks painting her the elegant woman she was - even as she practically squatted down by the side of the bed to meet his eyes. 

 

"Good morning," he lets out a little grin and for the first time he notices that she isn't smiling back - deciding to change that he moves forward presses his lips to hers, happy as she kissed him back. He pulled away and she sighed again. 

 

"It's two in the afternoon," she stood up and his eyes followed her, her voice low, "you've been smoking...and she's still in our bed."

 

Smoothing down her dress she motioned to the bedroom door and without any more words she left - expecting him to follow. 

 

It was the combination of weed, alcohol, sex and sleep that actually caused him to forget about the first three of those things. 

 

To forget about Maria Reynolds fast asleep next to him. 

 

In the spot where his wife would often find herself. 

 

The night, well...early morning rushed back to him in one hit as he tried to catch his breath and ignore that heavy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. 

 

He was working hard - no change there - when Maria messaged him, asking for solace in his company (which he readily gave, of course he did). The young woman brought the drugs - per his request - and he was already half drunk when she turned up. 

 

It was a morning of...inappropriate behaviour, cloudy sex and barely any words spoken. 

 

Eliza wasn't to return home for another week, he had given himself that time to work out how the fuck to end this. 

 

Easing out of bed, everything felt woozy - and he wished he could blame it on drugs - he quickly dressed in a discarded pair of jeans, pulling a black shirt over his head and leaving the room - sparing a glance for the sleeping young woman. 

 

\--

 

Closing the bedroom door gently, he looked down the hallway, near his office, his wife stood without her heels and her arms wrapped around her waist, she looked so young (he ignored the part of him that shouted vulnerable). 

 

"She is quite young, Alexander," is the first thing she said, "What is she? Twenty two? Twenty three? How could you be so foolish?" 

 

"There are no...No words I wou-"

 

She scoffed, cutting his words off with a wave on her hand - he stood leaning against the wall opposite her, "Save your apologies. Four spare rooms."

 

"What?" The statement confused him, he rubbed at his face, attempting to ignore the dread that prickled at his skin. 

 

"This house has four spare bedrooms, that is quite a number - yet you bring her into the room we share, the bed where our children would crawl into with us for comfort...did you spare a thought of that before you fucked her?" 

 

Every word was as true as it was harsh to hear. 

 

"No, I didn't," his reply was honest and he could almost see the air leave her body, her wet eyes betraying what her stoic face would not. 

 

"Do you love her?" 

 

"No," there was no cause of hesitation, whatever was going on between him and Maria was not about love.  _At least not for him_.

 

Eliza nodded, a stray tear falling before turning and walking into his office motioning for him to sit down in his chair, she sat down opposite him, folding one leg over the other. 

 

"John Laurens, Maria Reynolds, my sister - how many others?" 

 

His mouth went dry and all he could manage was to shake his head.  

 

"Oh please, I believe that the two children we have had together and the marriage vows you made with me should be enough to earn your respect so that you will tell me the truth."

 

Dark nights flashed through his memories, the feel of another man’s mouth kissing up the length of his cock, the breathy way John would moan in his ear in the dark of the night, the feel of Maria’s young body under his hands, her responsive moans that made him feel all-knowing and young at the same time… Angelica’s laugh, the look of her eyes glittering, the words exchanged that held meaning…so much meaning that he dare not think too long. He looked down in his lap. 

 

"Never with your sister," he wanted to convey that most of all and was shocked by the trickle of laughter emitted. 

 

"No, your betrayal with Angelica is the worst one - an emotional affair, tell me is it only my sister that would allow you to finally feel satisfied?" Alexander gulped but remained silent, "Maria Reynolds is barely out of college, Alexander, what right do you have to drag her into the darkness with you?"

 

"She came to me-"

 

"For help!" She almost shouted, managing to keep herself still, "She wanted to get out of an abusive relationship, did she not? She wanted to be safe and you've thrown gas on her and lit a match!"

 

Then something dawned on him, he sat up in his chair, "how do you... how can you possibly know anything about her?"

 

"Susie Graham at the shelter, she's a doctor at the hospital on the graveyard shift, remarkable woman... she brought Maria's situation up to me, well...without mentioning any other names or too many specifics and I told her that she should send Mrs Reynolds to you - always inclined to help."

 

"But-"

 

"Of course, months passed and with the children and work I admit I forgot...it’s unfortunately not something that sticks out in your memory when you see it almost daily at the shelter and orphanages," she admitted sadly, her resolve wavering slightly before sitting up again, "Two weeks ago I receive an email from James Reynolds, and I remembered the last name, he asked what I thought of my husband’s involvement in his wife’s life, and like an idiot I believed at first that he was a bitter soon to be divorced man, the reality?" 

 

Alexander felt sick, a wave of unease because shit...he's been paying this man, no...He’s basically been paying for Maria, treating her like a whore because of the promise his wife wouldn't know and that... Whatever was happening with Maria could continue. 

 

And now he's ruined everything. 

 

Eliza sighed heavily, raising from her seat and walking over to where Alexander sat. He looked up at her for a moment before she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him to rest his head against her stomach. It was only a few moments before he wrapped his arms around her waist, burrowing almost into her stomach, inhaling her smell. 

 

"I've missed you," he all but whimpered and she took in a deep breath, he let the sentence hang in the air before pulling his head away, turning the chair towards her and pulling her waist. Automatically, despite the non-stretch of her dress she had moved to straddle him, his hands pushing her dress up for ease of movement just as their lips met. 

 

This is what he craved, the moments when he was at his lowest, lonely and run down, when he couldn't remember the sound of Philips laugh or if Angelica knew any French. Eliza's whole body and soul was a balm to his continuous self-inflicted wounds. 

 

Pulling at his hair, his head went backwards as her lips went to his neck, sucking almost animal-like before pulling back slowly easing herself off him. 

 

"You need a shower, you smell like weed and…," she trailed off, her words could have been harsher, truthfully he deserved it, instead they were husky and soft and full of a pain he wasn't ready to admit he was the cause of. 

 

"What are you going to do?"

 

"Me? What you should have done months ago," she walked around the desk and moved to the door, "actually help her."

 

She exited without another word, leaving Alexander dazed and still unable to shake the feeling in his stomach. 

 

\--

 

Eliza had to admire how blind, no…how _ignorant_ Alexander could be. Walking into her warm sun-lit room, the young girl lying in her bed was almost ashen against the white sheets. Dark eyes and fingers clenching in the sheets, haunted even in her heavy dreams.

She could hear the shower running and she sighed making her way towards the sleeping woman.

She would have to be delicate, this situation was so messed up – she could admit that, and she couldn’t even imagine how awkward it would be for Maria.

“Hello…” she tried awkwardly, her hand reaching out to touch the girl on the shoulder, shaking her gently. Jumping back, surprised as the girl sat up wide eyed almost instantly. Eliza fought against the awful awareness that she had gotten used to waking up suddenly…instantly on the defensive.

“Oh my God,” her voice was raspy, and she pulled the sheet right up to her neck, her eyes darting around the room. The fight or flight response was one she was well aware of.

“Don’t…don’t _worry_ , I’m not here to hurl you out of bed by the hair,” Eliza felt uncomfortable evening saying the words, “I… I’m here to help. Help in a way that my husband _should_ have.”

“I-I should leave,” Maria looked around, obviously searching for her clothes and Eliza wasn’t too strong as to pretend that the thought of what had happened here hours previous did not make her feel sick – make her feel like she wanted to burn the room to the ground.

She made her way around the room, picking up the various pieces of clothing, folding the yoga pants, the thin strappy vest top and hoodie, evening managing to remain composed as she picked up the other woman’s underwear.

“I understand that this is an awkward situation, believe me this is not what I _wanted_ to see,” Eliza placed the clothes on the bed next to Maria, walking towards the other side of the room and picking up her husband’s clothes and repeating the same action (mentally noting that she was not mature enough to fight the urge that her first desire was to burn them – and that is _exactly_ what she intended to do… _later_ ), “There is a family friend, if you are serious about leaving your husband – which I believe you are, Mrs Reynolds – that I believe will take on your case pro-bono, and I will sort something out money wise for you to get out as soon as possible.”

She heard stumbling and looking to see the woman mostly dressed, picking up her shoes and trying to balance as she put them on, “Why? I just… I ruined your life.”

“No, _you_ didn’t,” Eliza shot back instantly leaving no doubts as to where the blame lie, there was a look on Maria’s face though, a guilty expression which led Eliza to a small realisation, “Perhaps you are not entirely blameless.”

“I’m not,” she admitted without hesitation, “I offered… and when James found out, h-he made me… come back and I did because…” Eliza hoped that the feeling of being punched in the stomach was not evident on her face, even as she fought for breath.

“You love him?” try as she did, to make it sound more like a blasé statement she could not control the pained way it turned into a question – as though throughout all this the mantra of _it’s just sex, it’s just sex, it’s just sex_ would be enough that she could get through this unscathed.

“I didn’t mean to,” she tried, and shook her head, awkwardly pulling her hands into her hoodie pockets, looking every bit the young twenty something she was. _Fuck, fuck, FUCK!_

“Do you …do you intend on leaving your husband, on taking your young daughter out of that situation at home?”

Eliza knew that Maria could read the underlying message here, _do you intend to keep seeing my husband?_ “I am ready… to leave.”

“Good,” Eliza nodded and walked over to the door and motioned for Maria to follow her, “We can go into Alexander’s office and I will get the ball rolling for this.”

\--

Hours later, after Maria had left – after Aaron Burr was asked if, for Eliza he could do a favour - and after Philip and Angelica returned home, Eliza could finally feel the stress of the day weighing down on her.

Angelica was speaking to her, enthusiastically waving her arms as she sat on her father’s lap and Eliza could feel her stomach rolling, her attention waning.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she jumped and instantly replied when her daughter whined in attention. Alexander looked down at the table and Eliza felt her eyes begin to sting, “I’m going to sort out some washing, you got the kids?”

He nodded in reply, his eyes not moving from the table and she hoped that it would stay that way, because she was sure that if he looked at her then – she wasn’t sure what exactly she would do, but she wanted to remain composed in his eyes…he would not see her crumble.

The clothes she folded were still resting on the crumbled bed… she saw the picked up the wicker basket that dirty laundry would go in and placed them in there, stripping the bed clothes along with them… moving to the top drawer of her bedside table, she found the box of matches that she kept for the candles and the small box of letters that came from the early days of her and Alexander’s relationship – she similarly knew of the box that rested in his drawer and she couldn’t help but wonder if he even _thought_ of them.

Thought of their past.

Their relationship.

She took the matches out – maybe one day she’d burn the letters too, both his and hers…but right now the thought of doing something so permanent… of taking away their past when everything was so fragile that she couldn’t be aware that this may be the only piece of him she has to remember him by in a few years.

\--

The wicker basket, his clothes, the bed sheets weren’t salvageable by the time Alexander realised what she had done – and a sick part of him was happy that she reacted at all, that she reacted so violently… he was happy she was angry, that she _felt_ that way, it meant that maybe they _were_ salvageable.

He didn’t interrupt her private session in the back garden, he took the children to bed – both surprisingly willing – and retired to his office. His mind couldn’t stick to the topic on hand and he knew that they had to talk…that something had to be said because _Christ_ not even twelve hours ago his wife found him in bed with another woman, and he felt like he was suffocating.

Their bedroom was empty, and he wasn’t surprised at that.

The sheets had been stripped from the bed, and he knew that in the very subtle way that was Eliza, the bed would probably be replaced without him even being aware – and he wasn’t going to tell her anything. He wasn’t going to tell her how long, or how often or how it felt like a drug and yet someone he didn’t crave her from the moment Eliza found out.

From the moment he looked at Maria as she exited the house, their eyes meeting and he was struck by the fact that… _shit_ , she was barely in her twenties and begging for help and he fucked her instead. He acted like she seduced him, because she was willing and he was wanting and…she was so grateful he would help her that she paid him back with her body, as if that was the only thing she knew what to do…

She was too young to think she was only worth _that_.

He finally clicked onto the sound of the shower running and drifted towards the sound, really it wasn’t his place to go looking for her – he knew she’d probably not appreciate his presence, but he needed to talk. He needed to know what she was thinking. Was she picturing him burning as when she set the clothes aflame?

Ultimately he was surprised by the sight in the steamy bathroom, his wife sitting on the edge of the bathtub, the showing running behind her and her hair wet over one shoulder her fingers absentmindedly brushing through the strands.

“Eliza,” his voice was surprisingly quiet, and he wondered if she could hear him over the sound of the running water, he moved passed her and turned off the taps, the room still stifling in heat. He stepped around to face her. She was staring ahead, the towel wrapped around her chest but most telling with the redness of her eyes.

_Oh_.

He squatted down slightly, to meet her eyes and almost jumped as they flicked to him, “Nobody can know, Alexander.”

“What?”

“Nobody can know, I don’t want this getting out there – I don’t care, I’m not being weighed down in the press because you can’t remain faithful,” he nodded instantly, moving to sit on the toilet, pushing the seat down first. He leant forward, placing his elbows on his knees and sighing.

“You want to make this work?” he allowed himself to sound hopeful, because it seemed maybe, _just maybe_ she wanted to work through this situation… he didn’t allow his hope to completely diminish when she let out a little laugh, turning her wet eyes to him.

“We’ve only been married just over ten years, Alexander – you’ve slept with other people, you’d probably still be with John Laurens if he was still…” she shook her head, and he could feel the tightness in his throat, “You know usually people have affairs after ten years, I get that...but I am beginning to believe that you have wanted to get out of this from the beginning.”

“Never,” he swallowed, “I love you, more than _anyone_ …” he was angry then, because yes his feelings for Angelica were ambiguous at best, and his relationship with John did drift into the early months of his marriage…and he did make a mistake, a grave one with young Maria Reynolds, but the way he felt for Eliza, she must know not to doubt _that_.

Eliza smiled sadly, standing slowly from the edge of the bath, taking in a shuddering breath as she walked towards Alexander, looking at him intently, “Tell me everything.”

“W-what?” his eyes were wide then, blinking and mouth dry, “Tell yo- _whu…_ ” he trailed off, as she dropped the towel from her body, his eyes couldn’t help but take in her whole form his hands itching as he dropped, leaning against the back of the toilet.

“I want you to tell me everything,” she repeated stepping closer to him again – now this was uncharted territory for him, because the look on his wife’s face was something almost hollow wrapped with a lust that he was familiar to him. So, his impatient hands moved to her waist that was still damp from her earlier shower and pulled her close, unable to prevent the little groan he let out when she straddled him willingly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she dropped her lips to his ear, “I want you to tell me what it felt like to have him buried inside you, what she _tastes_ like…” she pulled back and her eyes were still wet and he was angry for getting turned on by not only her body but her _words_.

“I don’t…I don’t want to talk about it,” he whispered and she shook her head, dropped a kiss to the side of his lips, he attempted to chase the kiss, turning his head to capture her but she pulled back.

“Please,” she started, “it makes me _sick_ , Alexander… That they know about you in a way I don’t, that they were with you when you were…” she shook her head, moving one arm from around his neck to palm the front of his jeans, his obvious arousal – _a betrayal_ against the guilt that festered in the pit of his stomach – pressing against her hand. He couldn’t help the way his hips lifted in need of more pressure and she buried her head in his neck, biting down none too gently.

“ _Ow,_ shit…” his hands moved from her waist and fumbled with his button and zip on the jeans, clumsily pushing them and his underwear down enough to free himself. There was no words spoken as she rose up, and he positioned himself to enter her swiftly – because he couldn’t help himself.

(Maybe he needed to go to therapy. Maybe they both did, because this wasn’t healthy and he couldn’t even stop himself when she looked at him with tears in her eyes, even as she straddled him naked – he knew that this is a claiming of a debauched kind. She will gain nothing from hearing about the mistakes he made, the past lovers he had… except for _pain_ and he knows she must know that, which made this whole thing so wrong)

She didn’t move for a moment, her both arms back around his neck, wrapped awkwardly so she was almost leaning her elbows on his shoulders, her hands reaching and almost touching his hair but almost as if she wouldn’t allow herself… Her nose was pressed against his cheek, and she lifted up slightly, before dropped down quickly.

“Tell me…”

It was wrong, and this whole situation was wrong, but she felt so good around him, skin so soft that he couldn’t stop himself from lifting his hips up slightly, creating more friction, and complying to her demands.

And afterwards, after the summarized stories were told in gasps and moans, and Eliza came shuddering beneath him her cheeks wet, and he came inside her feeling emotionally drained, she pulled away without any words and replaced the towel on her body covering her from his gaze and spoke with her voice low, looking towards the floor.

“I trust you will be okay in your office?”

“E-Eliza?” his voice was harsh, and _no_ - he could not let this end like this…he wouldn’t allow those words he spoke in the heats of passion to be something she dwelled on that evening, the sick feeling in his stomach that he just _knew_ she had to feel as well, “No, we need to talk.”

“I-I can’t look at you, Alexander,” she spoke firmly, biting her bottom lip and turning to walk out of the room, pausing as she got to the door handle, noticing that the bathroom door hadn’t been shut from his previous entrance sighing, “We will talk tomorrow. After we shop for new bedroom furniture. I think it’s time for it to be redecorated.”

He nodded, all too aware that she couldn’t see him, “I love you, Betsey.” He all but whispered the declaration.

“I know,” she didn’t return the sentiment, leaving the room and going to their bedroom. Alexander sat alone in that bathroom wondering if this was the worst it would be in his life, if he would feel this constant disgusting feeling in his stomach. She asked him never to tell anyone, _anyone_ about this – her family included and he promised her.

That was the least he could do.

And if he broke that promise? He would deal with _that_ downfall when he came to it.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't do modern AU's in general (we're going to ignore that 3000+ word story about eliza dating burr and ham that will never see the light of day, shh) - but this is sort of based on something an older friend of mine told me she did after she found out her long term boyfriend had had an affair, she just wanted to know everything (and she said it used to...you know, get her a little hot, a bit like getting off on the emotional pain) they are actually still together (and holy crap nuts did they work at it). 
> 
> (I left the letters intact with the oh so not subtle hint that the modern day edition of the reynolds pamphlet and the burning of said letters would still happen later in these bastards lives).


End file.
